Je T'Adore, My Love
by XxMemoryLainxX
Summary: A story of romance, revenge, mystery and emotion set in historical times. A crime previously committed casts a permanent shadow on the lives of Casey and Atem.
1. Prologue

Prologue: Fate's Parting Ways

"Dad, dad! Look! Look!" The young boy jumped up emphatically. "I finished it! It's done!" A small, delicate, wooden boat was cradled in the boy's hands as his big violet eyes gazed at his father.

"Now, now, Atem, can't you see I'm busy? Go play with your new toy somewhere else" Lord Harold of Glorywood said as he looked down to his son, his successor.

"Mmm… Alright Dad." He said and walked off from his father's study. Harold stared after his son and felt a relief wash through him as he watched his boy run off to play with his own creation. At fourteen, Atem already exhibited everything a duke could need. Good judgment, good character, loyalty, and of course; his acquired good looks. Harold didn't doubt that his estate would be safe in his son's hands and that took some load off of his shoulders.

As the only child, Atem held the privilege of becoming the next duke of Glorywood. But also, the boy was responsible for carving his own reputation. Foolishly marrying Cassandra, Harold had not only lost respect from his fellow Englishmen but his heart as well. Cassandra had been French which was unheard of in the _ton_. So he had given up a bit of social status to be with the woman he had foolishly thought loved him back. Instead Cassandra only saw him twice a week, if lucky enough, and fed of his estate like a giant parasite. But it was too late to regret things now. Harold firmly believed that Atem being a half breed would be overlooked once he entered society. And his son would not make the same mistake that he had.

……………………………

The sky was painted a sickly grey hue the moment he stepped out of his house. But the boy was excited; he would finally get to play with the toy that he himself constructed. The prospect of trying out his fragile boat erected from his own carving of oak wood, and a sail made of the finest Egyptian cotton made him shiver.

In a moment or so, the clouds opened up and surely cool rain began to fall upon the bleak deserted road near his home. It poured in waves of fury, as if attempting to wash out the sins that clouded the Glorywood estate. The scent of different flowers mingling began to travel with the passing wind and surround the young boy.

"Okay…and here we go…" Atem furrowed his brow in concentration as he attached a crisp and white string to his boat which he had names 'Adore.' The boat stood steady on the stream of rain water, lolling from side to side. An idea from his father, and the name from a glimpse of his mother's book, it stood together quite unlike his parents ever were. But the young child seemed to forget his distraught over his parents' relationship as he steadied the boat quite skillfully with his hand and in the little French that he knew he whispered, "Allons-y m'adore."

The home-made sailboat skated on the crystal blue water with an ease and calm that reflected Atem's current state of mind as his eyes stayed glued to the boat. He didn't even notice when the boat began a less steady motion as the current increased, the water filling the entire road. Atem wadded in as his boat took him further into the center of the road.

The rain had gained speed as it thickened the already wet sheet on the road. The sailboat gained speed as it lead the little boy further down the road.

……………………………

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" Kiya asked Selene as they traveled under the trees of a mild forest on someone's private property.

"I don't know, but it's raining so hard that these trees can't even provide the shelter that we need. But it's the best we have." Her sister Selene responded.

…………………………..

The future duke of Glorywood paid no heed to the sounds of the two intruders as he watched his sailboat go round the bend and follow it, string in hand. The current was only beginning to get strong and he felt the light tug on his fingers and just smiled.

The wind was picking up and adding to the brisk nature of the storm that had been manifested. The little boy heeded no warning from the dark clouds and continuing on, his hair sticking to him as he became drenched. His boat paused at the bend of the road as if succumbing to fate and another gust of wind ripped the rope straight from his hands.

The next few moments might as well have been the fastest that Atem had every experienced. He heard a horrible screeching sound and before he could turn around to see the carriage only millimeters from where he stood, a girl jumped up and knocked him from the way.

A gasp was heard that Atem can only identify as his own. He looked to the crushed sailboat lying near the girl that had jumped up and knocked him from harms way. The boat had the largest blow delivered to it and lay there tattered with no remains of being a boat at all. The carriage door opened and the successor of Lord Ashville stepped out, his son Derrick.

"My lord! What happened here?" He asked as he stepped into the stormy atmosphere.

"You broke them." Atem said in an almost questioning voice. And at that moment Selene bounded to the street, wondering what on earth had made her sister turn so suddenly and run onto the open road. What she saw before her made her halt in mid-step.

"Is she going to be okay?" Atem mused as he leaned down near his savior. She was a rather petite girl and by the looks of things, she wasn't that much younger than Atem. Her hair was loose and hung to her shoulders which in this time was found to be barbaric, but he found it nothing short of gorgeous. The color shone of red and chestnut fused together like a sunset deep in the woods. He laughed at love at first site when mentioned, but here it was. He gulped slightly and put a strong hold on himself, figuring that the weak gene of love had been passed on to him by his father. Emotionally sated he shook the girl a little.

"Hello?" he asked and shook her a bit hastily now. Kiya groaned in response and opened her eyes to meet those of Atem. She jumped as she remembered how she was trespassing and then how the carriage had almost hit him.

Even as a street rat, which was the term most often used, she knew who this was. The son of the duke of Glorywood, his successor.

"Are you alright my lord?"

Atem couldn't suppress the smile that befell his features when she asked that after being the one that was hit by the cart.

"Well I don't know. A man needs much time to recover from that."

"What?"

"I was just saved…that was supposed to be your job."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

-"Allons-y m'adore" – 'come on my liking', translated literally. But since Atem is half French and living in England with a rather conservative father, his French is very poor so the grammar of this statement may be wrong.


	2. Vengeance hereby sleeps

_Sleep, my love, so we can meet.  
Dream, my love so you can see.  
My visage so close to yours,  
Our souls lying on the crystal shores._

And when the shores and oceans meet,  
we can make our haste retreat,  
hand in hand, heart in heart,  
Did you find me _now my love_

-Me

…………………………………………

(Ya tabe kahayu (Belarusian))

………………………………………..

**Chapter 1: Vengeance hereby sleeps **

The morning of the season debut was bleak and painted with graying clouds, an omen to those who believed in such. For him, the thunder clap was just another savior from his tormenting dream.

These nightmares were more recurrent than they had ever been before, and that bothered him. The girl Kiya kept returning and that carriage kept coming out of nowhere. That wheel kept leaving a forever mark on her pale shoulder, and the little sailboat kept cracking under the strain. For a rake like him to be having obsessive dreams like this…well it was unheard of!

Getting up, he made his way to his own private bathroom to splash some cool water on his face. A mirror hung eloquently and displayed his pale visage. The rich regal red hues accented his woe, but his composure was quickly regained. Today was the start of another season and both his mother and father insisted he attended this one as well. He saw no point in doing so however; the only fun of a season was seeing how many girls he could ruin. He never really took interest in any of them and just build up his reputation as being impossible to get. However there was a down side in that, more scandalous women just found this as a tasty challenge and latched on like leeches, thinking that they would finally get him to succumb to them. But marriage was the last thing on his mind.

And Kiya should've been the last thing on his mind as well. Wasn't it her whose journal he had found lying around in his woods? Wasn't it she who had wrote that the only reason that she was friends with him was for his fortune? Didn't that thought burn him and make his heart want to break his chest? No… she was a street rat and should not be thought of. He left his abode with a close of the door, embarking on one more day.

………………..

Kiya groaned as the sunlight pierced through the space between the wood in the cottage. Rubbing her eyes, she looked to the bed across the tiny room to find it empty. Where was her sister? Working no doubt. Her employers were the definitions of grotesque and unreasonable. Sure enough after a few moments of lying around, Selene crawled into the cottage and shut the door before collapsing into the bed.

"Selene, you can do whatever you want but I'm not letting you go back to the Kaibas." Kiya stated.

"Heh, I have to go…in….one…hour." And she was out like a light.

Kiya grumbled as she got up and went to the kitchen to make some eggs sunny side up. This involved a rather unique strategy involving a reluctant frying pan which needed to be wrestled with, and eggs that were too hard to break. This was the traditional breakfast that they had had since…since they could remember. After preparing the humble breakfast (and getting egg coincidently in places there were no stains yet), she sat down and reflected on the situation that they were in. Having been left to strive for themselves since a very young age, Kiya and Selene adopted pretty nicely to their bleak existence. While Kiya was left to look after the cottage, Selene had been employed by Lord Kaiba, the elder. Her job was vigorous, cleaning, cooking, and sometimes for some reason they kept her over night. It was as if they thought her a slave. Kiya's fork connected with her plate with a loud _clunk_. It just was just not bearable. But they needed the revenue for whatever bread, butter, and water they could get.

The incident with the carriage had occurred seven years ago, the scar was almost faded however A lingering memory of Atem. He was so kind, nothing like what Selene told her the younger Lord Kaiba was like. It was just as well, after the carriage accident, every rainy day they would meet by that fateful bed in the road. And that year it had rained a lot. Atem had ceased showing up however. Something had occurred, and after staying out 10 days under the rain, she had gained the courage to knock on the door to the palace-like structure which served as his home, only to be turned away coldly by the butler. "I'll see him again…eventually." She vowed under her breath and heard a stubborn groan and the bedroom door open.

"Don't even think about it" she said without looking at her sister.

"Oh I'm not thinking about it…"

"Oh?"

"I'm dreading it." Kiya gave a snort and shook her head.

"At least eat-" she was cut off with the front door closing. "Damn she's fast…" she worriedly sighed and then heard the door opening. "Whoa! That WAS fast."

"You don't understand…your grace. I have no time for this. I'm late for my job."

"What job. You will be having no job." A mans voice came and soon they entered the kitchen area.

Kiya stood up abruptly when she saw who it was. She recognized him right away, even after seven years.

"You're the guy that was in that carriage! You're Lord Alex of Ashville"

"Nice memory. But you know who else I turned out to be?"

"No…who?" Selene chimed in.

"Your blood relation." He said, "More specifically, your brother!"

A moment of silence fell upon the part of three for a moment. When the moment passed Selene broke the awkwardness with a mirth that she had been holding back since Duke Alex made the impossible statement.

"By god. Duke Seto would stoop this low? But this is quite humorous!" She giggled on, and her statement made Kiya shoot up and fold her arms. Before the duke in question could begin to speak she stopped him with her own two cents.

"Now I don't know much about being wealthy. But you lot are all pigs and deserve a fate of falling to a pool of mud, drowning. And…and!"

Selene and Alex looked to her expectantly.

"Getting pelted with…!"

Selene knew when her sister was too angry to finish the sentence so she said the first thing that came to mind, or rather that met her eye.

"Eggs."

"What?" Alex asked, wondering if a particular madness ran in his family.

"Yes eggs!" Kiya confirmed "the...err…hard kind!" sacrificing her rant at the altar of no more witty ideas.

"Okay, okay. But you will have to suffer the same fate because; you in fact are related to me."

Both sisters looked at him like he was the mad one who had predicted the egg fate.

"Okay… wow" Alex said thinking most girls wouldn't care for proof and just jump up and join him on the lands of Ashville. He reached in his briefcase which was made of pure and sturdy leather, the crest of his family embossed in golden thread. He took out papers, birth certificates and handed them over to both girls.

"Okay, my name isn't Casey, for one thing…" Kiya said. "This must be a joke.

"And Elena?" Selene asked. "How is that even pronounced? Elehna.. Elahna…." She tried.

"It's eee-lain-ah" Alex answered. "We have a grandmother left, although she had taken ill. But her wish was to locate the lost daughters of her grandchildren. That's where you two come in."

"So, how cruel are you to simply find two poor girls in the middle of nowhere and make them pose as your long lost sisters just to make your grandmother shut up?!" Kiya asked.

"I hadn't. It was a very long and vigorous search. I have been searching for over seven years. Remember the time my carriage had almost hit the young duke? Well I was going to the priest who looked over these lands to get the bios of everyone. And I went through each one of them quite thoroughly." Alex explained.

Kiya and Selene looked at each other quizzically. So it must've been true.

Kiya, or rather, Casey, had hair the color of chestnuts and a red sunset fused together. This wasn't considered to be very beautiful in these times, since they preferred solid colors over anything else. Her eyes were just as uncertain, they were mostly green, but if one looks closely, they would see traces of brown in her elegant orbs.

Selene, who was already beginning to get used to her real name, Elena, was not much different. Her hair was even more of a muddle of colors. She was a light brunette, that some claimed to be dark blond. But under certain angles of the sun, a red tint would be seen, and the color would be even more anonymous. Although, apparently, Russians claimed it russa. Her eyes were of a crystalline blue, but had traces of green. And as many blue eyes people, they had a tendency from going to gray to blue to greenish.

It was apparent why the two girls had identified themselves as sisters on the street so long ago. And a second look at their brother proved that they were related. He shared the same eye color as Casey, except with more masculine features, they weren't quite as luminous. His hair was somewhere between Casey's and Elena's.

"Are you serious…?" Casey broke the not-so awkward silence after the siblings finished assessing themselves.

"Yes and you are requested to come with me as soon as possible."

"Can we make a quick stop before we get to our…home?" Elena asked.

………………………………….

A few hours later Elena was returning to the carriage with a quite satisfied grin on her lips.

"By the gods, did you murder him?" Both Casey and Alex asked their sister. The only difference was that Alex asked fearfully, and Casey asked hopefully.

"Much much better than that. What do you think of me? Some mediocre tormentor? I don't think so..."

"What did you do!" this time both of them had mock looks of horror on their features.

"I tried shoving a broom up his buttocks which involved me chasing him up three flights of stairs and slamming his door in my face." Elena explained, "After I told him that I will no longer be cleaning up his and his father's pigsty."

"But why the broom?" Alex mussed while Casey sat back and laughed soundly.

"Because I said that I wanted to test my hypothesis…. That there was room for another large stick up in that hole of his…" At this point both siblings burst out laughing while Elena looked at the two quizzically. "What!? I believe there is!"

……………………………..

The next few days ran so smoothly, Casey felt that she would wake from this delightful dream at any moment. They were received with open arms, their newly discovered grandmother was recovering from her illness, and they had been measured and had a whole new wardrobe for themselves. Best of all; hard eggs were no longer on their list of things to wrestle that day.

There was, however, this season business. And standing in uncomfortable yet breath taking attire, Casey realized that this wasn't going to be quite as easy as it seemed. There were only three families left before hers would be called up. And, quite incidentally, the staircase was growing longer and longer with each couple called. Until finally, the majestic and loud voice boomed.

"Duke Alex, Duchess Casey, and Duchess Elena of Ashville!" With a final breath, Casey ventured into the thick water. Or that's what it felt like. The stair Casey seemed to have taken forever to dismount, and she wondered if ten years had passed somewhere before she finally got to the final step. But she had looked ahead, as the two days of consecutive and vigorous training dictated. But it was then that she scanned her surroundings, and felt her heart stop.

Atem was standing against a column, not looking, and talking to some blond.

She had no idea why that caused such a sinking feeling in her chest.


	3. Chasing Ghosts

"_Hatred, in the course of time, kills the unhappy wretch who delights in nursing it in his bosom."_- Giacamo Casanova

_The past is a weapon to some,_

_Its ghosts are friends to many,_

_But it tends to only follow one,_

_Whose heart is in it plenty. _

_So run with me along the Nile,_

_Of pasts hidden by denial, _

_And see here why I can't leave,_

_These frozen beaches of retrieve. _

_-Me_

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Te Amo. (Spanish.)

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Chapter Two: Chasing Ghosts **

Fate has a way of presenting itself to the non believer; in this case Atem was the skeptical individual who dared challenge the phenomenon. The blond chit that was now leaning against the pearly white pillar didn't seem as desirable as he had first suspected. And to his relief she was called from his company by a rather alarmed mother. No one really wanted to see their daughter ruined. No, they were too fearful of a powerful title slipping through their fingers.

"Oh! Excuse me" The blond said as she had apparently walked into someone on her way out. He turned around to only feel himself freeze over. Was it really her? Was it really Kiya? It couldn't be.

Casey felt a similar affect of shock as if a large amount of volts suddenly traveled up and down her spine. She recovered more quickly however due to the fact that she had been aware of his presence. And with her own good share of wit she decided to play it cool and composed.

She decided to pretend that she didn't know him.

The feeling of familiarity was too strong to shake, and so stepping over his pride, Atem approached the red haired girl with caution.

"Um…excuse me, but do I know you?"

"No I believe we never met." She answered, and what seemed to be the faint trace of a sadistic smile passed her lips.

"Are you sure?" He asked, not catching the smirk that betrayed the truth of the circumstance. But perhaps it wasn't Kiya and his mind was just playing a trick on him. Regaining his stance he added, "Well, maybe, we can get to know each other." A playful twinkle played in his violet eyes.

Having raised an intricate glass of rich wine to her lips, Casey did not know what exactly sparked her mirth. But there she was, laughing at the duke's obvious attempt to seduce her.

"And what is so funny?"

She gulped down the wine rather quickly, and finally stopped her laughter abruptly and let out a tiny little "nothing."

"Well, I'm quite not so sure that it's in fact nothing…" Atem trailed off as he eyed her. She had developed quite nicely, if it were Kiya after all. He then noted the rather bold decision for a dress she had on. It wasn't as revealing as most woman of the _ton_. But it went quite easy on the male's eye. The elegant fabric hung loosely off her shoulders, revealing the creamy paleness of her skin. He then spotted proof that he was in fact staring at the girl from his past.

"And what happened here?" He breathed, his hand reaching up and grazing the faint scar on her shoulders.

"Oh well, quite an amusing story actually. But it is quite long. "Casey was obviously enjoying the irony of this whole affair. She knew who he was. And something told her that he knew who she was likewise.

"Really now? Well I must say that I'm quite intrigued and must hear this story."

"Casey?" Her brother interfered, coming over. "A young gentleman has volunteered to accompany you to the first dance"

And since it was most satisfying to do so, Casey nodded and turned to the person that had stolen her heart when she was just a child. "Well then, perhaps at a later date."

She never received a reply. For Atem was quite shocked. Has he been fooled by some skipping girl when he was younger? Who was this Casey? Or was it Kiya? He didn't know. But all he was quite sure of was the burning of anger in his chest. Perhaps he was over reacting, but having his own heart traded off at a ripe age did have its side affects as well.

"So…Casey Kathingale…" The male she was currently dancing with had finally found the chance to pierce her rather soothing thoughts of a certain duke. She then realized quite suddenly that she had no idea _who _the man she was dancing with was.

"Oh you shall find me quite the klutz, but I have forgotten your name!" She explained, hoping that she didn't sound offending in any way. First impressions were quite stressed.

"Well I'm sure it won't happen again" the man said good naturedly and Casey decided that he in fact was not that bad.

"I can assure you that it won't" she nodded.

"Slervine, Jonathan Slervine." He smiled. As much as Casey was beginning to enjoy this man's company, she couldn't wait to continue her much anticipated talk with Atem. She of course had never experienced a full length waltz before sp after she had finally gotten used to the steps she started to count down the seconds in her head.

"Well thanks for the dance milady" It took all she had to restrain the sigh of relief that was begging for release.

"Same to you, kind sir" she smiled brightly and headed off the dance floor to locate her sister and tell her the latest news. She finally located her sister in a quite unfavorable position.

"Now, now, Elena, tell the duke that you are sorry" Derrick was saying. Her sister shook her head vigorously.

"I do not say what I do not mean." She said stubbornly. Casey found herself struggling not to laugh now.

"I think you better do what your brother says there, chit" Seto ground out his arms folded but keeping a rather precise distance from the girl.

"Okay, I'm sorry I was wrong." Elena got out, sounding quite genuine.

Casey swore everyone that was watching this almost had a heart attack at that statement.

"I do not believe there is room for another stick in his rear end" She relieved most and turned her nose up, leaving the onlookers with mixed reactions.

"Well your sister made quite the impression." Atem said, taking her by surprise.

"Well yeah, it appears she has…" Casey finally let some of her mirth show. "But honestly you can't blame her. The Kaibas had worked her to the bone before… and she by no means is a hypocrite."

"So about that story…" Atem trailed off expecting her to take the bait in this conversation.

Casey couldn't help but notice the silent glint of malice in his violet eyes and she took a wise step back but that had been the only precaution that she had taken. Other than that, she shook any feeling of danger off.

"Well, it was during that one year when it had rained the most." She began, wondering how to phrase the tale to take every possible advantage on him.

"My sister and I had been looking for the rumored abandoned cottage to make our home… We had gotten a bit lost and crossed onto the private territory of the Glorywoods. I was feeling skittish but my sister assured me that everything was going to end well, and that this was the way to the cottage. We kept walking when a road came into my vision and a small dot of a person on it. I was curious on who could be out in such rain. Perhaps they were alone and poor like my sister and I? So I came closer and forgot the thought. For there on the road was a site that any painter would envy to capture on canvas."

Atem momentarily forgot his anger as he listened to the past event in which he was involved being retold. "What did you see?"

"A little boy, dressed quite royally but acting like any regular boy. He had a string in his hand and was trailing along the road, a darling home made sailboat following close behind. I was so entranced that it was only until my sister gasped in shock did I notice the carriage on the road. The horses had lost control and they were skidding right for the boy! I simply blanked out, but apparently I acted fast for I had saved the boy. Unfortunately his boat had not survived for it had in its own way saved me."

"Well that's quite the tale." Atem shook his head to regain his composure. He managed to push that wonderful memory out of his mind and the wonderful memories that followed when he had gained the girls friendship. He began to remind himself of the horrid diary he had located. It had been placed so conveniently along the trail in the forest he always took. As if she wanted him to find it. It had revealed her true colors, that the only reason she was friends with him was his money, his power. He reminded himself how he didn't even know who she was. Perhaps she was scheming the Kathingales out of their money?

Casey frowned at his reaction, the soft look that had glazed his eyes during the tale was now abandoned and replaced by a hard look she could only identify as dangerous. Something was off and that something was urging her to get out of there before-

"Who on earth do you think you are?" A fire that burned cold sparked in his violet eyes making her flinch.

"Apparently I'm Casey Kathingale of Ashville" She nodded bravely.

"Oh are you? Because what I think is that you're a scheming witch. I don't know your name. Kiya…Casey….doesn't very well matter now does it?" his hand reached up to grab her by the forearm quite painfully. He was talking through gritted teeth and in a low dangerous voice. But to her it seemed his voice was amplified and everyone could hear it though they were pretending not to.

"What are you going on about?" She answered bravely yet again although tears of shame were beginning to burn her eyes. "Let go of me this instant!"

"Oh I'm on to you. And when I find the needed proof, you will be thrown out into the gutters where you were, where you belong" With that he flung her and made his retreat out of the mansion where this particular season event was taking place.

Once outside he stepped into his carriage and abruptly instructed his driver to head home. He watched the scenery pass by quickly through his window and admitted to himself that he had over reacted. But that bit just made him more bitter and hardened. Who was she to make his emotions go into such turmoil as this? It was wrong; he didn't like it when he felt dependent. He decided he didn't like her one bit. Only there was one thing that he wouldn't admit even in his thoughts… The reason he was so sensitive and the thing that he hated the most was that he actually liked her more than any other woman he had met. And on the basis of his parents' marriage and other marriages of the _ton_, he knew that women were lowly creatures. Never to be trusted and only good for one thing, warming ones bed and bringing about heirs. Alright, maybe that was two but in his rage he wasn't making much sense.

………………………………………………….

Casey had rushed to the nearest room she could find in the mansion. After a spell of crying and sobbing which only accomplished soaking her handkerchief she took the liberty of lighting a candle in the dark room.

Conveniently enough she found herself in the study of the head of the household, the one who was co-sponsoring the opening event of the season. She sniffed slightly and moved over to a cabinet which had old newspapers piled up in a non organized fashion.

Sniffing a bit she began to mindlessly leaf through the many pages. True she had been a poor girl on the streets, but she had learned to read about the time when her sister had gotten that job at the Kaibas which had been almost a year after they had found the abandoned cottage. True she was a bit a slow of a reader but it didn't well affect happened next.

Just as another sob escaped her lips a newspaper flew to the ground. Bold letters spoke for themselves "**Kathingales of Ashville diseased…. Murder or Accident?"** Her crying stopped abruptly as she looked at the title of the article "**A Plague on Ashville." **

She looked to the articles that followed;

"**Two daughters of Lady Anne and Lord Alex gone missing. Authorities claim they are deceased. Also no foul play is suspected."** Her eyes widened as she saw the next bolded text.

"**Is son Derrick to follow?"**

Something was definitely off… Something was- Her running thoughts were interrupted with the sound of the door opening. She jumped and began to turn slowly to the door frame, quite aware on how bleak her situation really was.


	4. A Misty Forecast

I like how,

_I like how,_

_You're not with me,_

_I like how,_

_I'm not with you._

_I love how,_

_That's not the truth._

_I love how,_

_Our sighs bring better proof,_

_That I'd like it more,_

_If you were mine._

_That you would love me more,_

_If I were yours. _

_-me_

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"S'ayapo" – Greek.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Chapter Two: A Misty Forecast **

There are an abundance of moments in a person's life when one enters a stage of panic and is able to convince themselves that they are dreaming. That when they awaken, the only threat they will face is their schedule being disrupted by their own laziness. But of course in most cases reality crashed these futile desires with an iron fist.

That's where Casey found herself, sitting on the floor of the study, a clipping of newspaper carelessly shoved in between her skirts somewhere, desperately praying that a large dark hole would swallow her, or she would awaken from this nightmare. The debate on which of the possibilities it could really be was halted by the figure in the doorway beginning to talk.

"Pardon madam, I have just stopped by here for some parchment you see…"

But of course! She said, with her luck it was obvious who it was going to be at the door. None other than the owner of this rather ghastly study.

"Oh yes, I-I just needed to be alone. I'm terribly sorry." She replied as she picked herself up from a rather comfortable position in the corner of this mans study. She believed that if she felt more ashamed than this, her cheeks would spontaneously combust in the night air.

"No, no, I'm sorry…..Casey?" The figure squinted and Casey almost jumped out of her skin. How the heck did he know her peasant name? Nobles were very efficient and they apparently researched well. Perhaps that's why there were newspaper clippings on her family on Lord Byron's desk?

"Umm yes!" She was astounded that the duke knew her name; she was just introduced to the society. These people didn't seem too ad any longer, they seemed to know everyone in their circle and recognize them right away. Something about that was welcoming.

'_Your_ _grace?'_ Atem thought with astonishment. Just a moment ago he was sure the only 'your grace' he'd get was a spit in the face and a very self absorbed 'humph' followed by her nose in the air.

"Well why are you here?" he inquired suspiciously, making the lady frown no doubt.

"Oh, I just got caught up in all the noise, I needed to be alone for a bit of a breather" Casey fabricated quite nicely. It wasn't a complete lie; she did need to get away from it all after what had occurred with Atem. The thought of him made her temper flare up again momentarily. She didn't know why this was affecting her so much….but it was.

"Okay….I see." He replied.

'_Lord Byron is a rather odd fellow. Perhaps he used to be a friend to my family?_' Casey thought and nodded moving to light a candle to bring light to the study. Something about talking to a stranger in the dark elevated her fears.

She found a match stick and struck it against the box, lighting the lantern and some of the candles nearby. She looked up to the older gentleman and almost fell backwards.

"YOU!"

Now _that_ was what he was actually expecting. "Yes…me" Atem said slowly looking around the room in a perplexed manner. "OH. And who did you think I was?"

"Lor-" She began and then stopped herself just as quickly, "Oh what does it matter to you! What are you even doing here?" She inquired, rather annoyed that out of all the rooms in this mansion, he would stumble into this one.

"_Oh, I just got caught up in all the noise; I needed to be alone for a bit of a breather._" He mimicked her in an exaggerated manner. She rolled her eyes in response to this but said nothing in reply.

"I knew something was off about you! What are you doing in Lord Byron's study anyway?" Atem inquired with his rather egotistical tone.

Casey stomped her foot in a rather un-ladylike manner. But by this point she really didn't care for etiquette. It was rather the floor than the sorry excuse for a man in front of her. She took a deep breath and clenched her teeth, forcing herself to talk slowly and quietly. "It was the first room I could find when I went out into the hallway. It looked private enough and I didn't want to be bothered. Especially by you."

Atem chuckled and could've sworn he heard the lady in front of him grind her teeth. "Whatever you're trying to pull….you're not very good at it" He shrugged.

"THE DEUCE I AM!" Her temper slipped, "God! Why did I ever have to break of my dance with Jonathan to talk to the likes of you? I don't know what _you_ might be pulling _kind sir_ but, I, surely am NOT amused." She turned away from him to face the large window, her arms folded tightly as she struggled not to cry from frustration. What the deuce had she ever done to him to deserve such treatment? It was down right degrading, and just uncalled for. Another sigh escaped her lips as she saw that her words did have the desired affect of wiping the smirk off of Atem's features.

"Very well then." Atem said and turned towards the door. But he refused to allow her to have the last word so he said "mistress…" He could almost smell her anger from where he was standing, and it followed him into the main hall and out the door. He had enough of this event. He had to go home- some pondering was to be done.

"There you are!" Casey turned around to see her brother Derrick standing in the doorway looking quite puzzled. "We have been looking all over for you! It seems your sister has made quite the spectacle of herself and it's best to leave now. Although, I really can't blame her…."

"Oh no….what has she done this time?" She asked.

"Does the word 'candlestick' mean anything to you?"

Casey laughed all the way home; it seemed her nerved exaggerated every emotion after her meeting with her childhood friend. But that wasn't the only cause for her internal conflicts. The article that was stashed somewhere between her skirts was burning a hole, she had to act quickly.

…………………………………..

Atem had gotten home in record time, he was sure his coachman would plot some sort of murder on him sooner or later with the way he was urging to go faster. He needed to get back into his right mind. Seeing Kiy- no Casey had caused such an impact on the wall I had put up internally. The one that blocked any soft places in my heart that would protect me from such an assault as she had brought upon me,

And why had I allowed myself to treat her kindly during some of the moments that we had found each other in the same company tonight? Wasn't I resolute enough to not give in to any temptations? But truth was I was but a man… So the only thing there was to dull out the now vivid image of those green eyes was to pull out the infamous journal. But her eyes….they seemed to have looked right though him, they seemed to have broken every fort he had put up against them in his mind. He refused to admit that that was the same case for his heart.

With a bold and quick movement he opened the journal. The cursive letters felt like his blood as he read. Not stopping to ponder on the reason why he still had this journal after all these years.

_Entry 10. _

_Do you know how opportunity comes knocking? Well opportunity got knocked out today. Yes, it was amusing as it sounded. I had met a man of position, of future wealth… a man that had caused me a mere scar on my shoulder. But it's worth it. _

_Too long had I spend on the streets, without a home, just my sister and me. _

_But guess what? He had befriended me. It's almost too perfect. It's true what they say- the rich should watch out for the poorer. But in my case, I'm glad that that didn't happen. _

_IT will be easy now; I can see it in his eyes. Although we're young…It'll be easy now. _

-_Casey_

He could never get past this entry easily. His record was to read five of the entries that involved him as an object merely there for her benefit. In fact, the rage that consumed him when he had read even the first bit of that was so large that it knocked all rational thoughts over. He didn't stop to think that the carriage might've killed her if she were unlucky enough. He didn't consider the fact that the journal's location was just too strategically planned out when he had come across it. No, he had the flames of vengeance.

But now he had chanced upon her and god how she had grown up. When he was little he was already pulled into her beauty like a magnet. But now, it was an even greater attraction. Gone was the youthful girl figure, the very slender girl that used to hop across the river on rocks along with him. In her place stood a woman, a true woman, who was still slender, but had attained desirable full curves. And an hourglass figure that most other ladies would probably kill for.

No, he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist her. Or the spell she wove. As he lay there staring at the ceiling he decided upon his next course of actions.

Casey Kathingale of Ashville would become his mistress, his paramour. And moments after his smirk revived, he found sleep.

…………………………………..

The very day after her first ball, Casey gathered both her sister and brother into the sitting room.

"What's so urgent?" Derrick asked as he yawned and stretched, hitting his hand in the process and cursing under his breath.

"THIS!"

"Ummm '**Lady Lora finds herself another husband**'?" Asked Elena, "Really Casey, if you're afraid of finding a husband or even a suitor you really should look at the mirror. GOSH look how irresistible you are!" she added trying to mend a perhaps broken self-esteem. Casey just laughed and flipped the paper over. It seemed a silence fell on the entire face of the earth.

"Where did you get that?" Derrick sounded angry. Elena looked to Casey; a look of alertness entered her eyes.


End file.
